The Commander's Tale
by mamashark
Summary: Gale has been thrust into the role of Commander in the Republic of Panem. Madge has ascended to the role of Commander's wife. AU. Elements borrowed from Handmaid's Tale.


**Chapter 1**

He always woke suddenly, with consciousness slamming into him. When he was awake he was always alert, attune to the world around him. Today, or course, was no different.

Perhaps it should have been, he mused. After all, today was different. Today he became someone in the eyes of Panem, a contributor. Today he moved from ward of the Capital to junior Commander.

It would have been nice to ease into the world today, bleary eyed and disconnected from the world. Instead, he is fully pressed against the cold doom of the inescapable coming hours. Today is reaping day, when all across the Republic boys of 18 and girls of 16 were pressed into their lifetime of service.

Normally he would already be slipping into his boots, ducking out the door and making his way to the nearby ocean. On a rest day like today he would have plenty of time for fishing after checking every one of his crab traps. He would have been able to give his brothers a welcome reprieve from the usual cold fish and coarse bread.

"Gale," his eyes snapped to Rory, who had whispered the morning greeting rising from the bed he shared with Vick. Gale hadn't thought he would hold true to his pledge to take the mantle of provider, waking early to make sure there was a little bit extra to go around, yet here he was waking on his own. He motioned his younger brother outside, gesturing to their still slumbering brother.

Rory had an entirely too pleased air about him as they stepped outside, evidently delighted he had proved his brother wrong. Gale boxed his ears the second the door closed behind them.

"Hey!" Rory pulled away, sullen. Gale didn't want to part with his brother this way, but it was necessary. He needed to make sure Rory was ready, that he grasped the full gravity of being the sole provider.

"Congratulations, you woke up once on your own. Now you have to do that for the rest of your life," he hissed. Rory look disappointed briefly, then immediately gave him a smug grin.

"You're just mad mom told you not to go this morning. Missing your freedom already aren't you? Have fun behind your desk Commander." Before he could hit him again Rory had passed back inside, to dress in his rubber boots and lightweight pants for crabbing.

He wanted to follow after his brother, remind him for a final time that Vick was now his sole responsibility. His mother tried to check in as often as possible, but often weeks would pass between her visits to her sons' small ocean-side shack.

He let Rory go though, knowing words meant little to a 12 year old. He needed to feel the vice grip of hunger in his belly and look at the hollow cheeks and mournful eyes of a starving younger brother before he truly understood the responsibility placed on his young shoulders.

Gale had been 14 when he had been thrust into the role of provider, just a week after their father had been killed and the food and run out. Silas Hawthorne had been crushed to death in a mine shaft beneath the surface of the earth in District 12, leaving behind a wife and three boys.

Hazelle had been on the streets immediately looking for work, but so had many other miner's widows. Work was scarce, which meant food was too. Besides, woman were explicitly forbidden from earning a wage under Panem law. Gale had looked at his brothers' hungry faces, and without hesitation snuck under the fence to hunt and trap as his father had been beginning to teach him.

For a few weeks they had survived this way, with Gale bringing in enough food to at least stave off the pains of hunger, if not to fill their bellies. His mother Hazelle had begun to find occasional work as a washerwoman too, taking in the wash of overworked Econowives lucky enough to have a few children.

He was sure they could have continued to survive this way in District 12, at the forgotten edge of the Republic of Panem forever. Unfortunately even in the most remote corners an unattached fertile woman could not pass unnoticed.

Three weeks after the death of Silas Hawthorne Hazelle Hawthorne was gone as well. No formerly married woman was pure enough to be remarried to even the lowliest of Guardians. However, any woman who had borne three strong children had a place in Panem. She had become Ofbrot, Handmaid to a Commander in the relatively wealthy District 4. Eight and a half months later she had given birth to a healthy baby girl. The baby had been immediately turned over to Commander Mellark's wife, her rightful mother.

Gale and his brothers had at first been left in the wooded District 12, wards of the Capital until their eighteenth birthdays. While female children were prized, males were worthless until they were at the age of contribution.

As wards they had at least received tesserae, which coupled with Gale's captured game had been enough. After the birth of his daughter however, Commander Brot had graciously brought his treasured Handmaid's son to his compound. The Capital had been all too eager to agree, and have three fewer mouths on their dole.

Of course it was unfathomable that Capital wards would live in the big house with the Household. They had been instead relegated to the one room shack at the edge of the Compound's grounds. The shack was situated on stilts, set just feet from the ocean.

For months Gale had laid awake at night, the repetitive crashing of the waves invading and occupying his mind, keeping sleep away. Eventually though he had become accustom to ocean life, even using the skills he had learned as a hunter to become a well adept fisherman.

He had eventually begun skipping school to fish and trade. After all, what did it matter? Eventually he would become a Guardian, the bottom of the bottom, with no hope of further climbing the ladder to even Angel, much less Commander. As a Guardian he would be a laborer for life, either a fisherman here in District 4, or returned to District 12, where he would be a coal miner like his father.

Gale would walk his brothers to school, then return home, where he could change and slip into the sea. He had become comfortable in this life. He had been almost hopeful for the future even, of a life here where even in the winter one did not worry about going cold. District 4 had days that would have been unimaginable to him in 12. Beautiful days where the blue sky seemed to stretch endlessly over a calm ocean, sparkling invitingly.

It had been one of those beautiful days when his mother had reappeared in his life. Though her Commander had brought her boys to her almost a year ago, Gale had not seen her since their parting in District 12.

"You aren't at school," she had stated coolly, seated on the rough stool that served as the only seat in the shack. Hazelle had never been one to beat around the bush and exchange pleasantries, it was comforting to know Ofbrot was no different.

She was almost plump, Gale noticed right away. She looked healthier than she ever had as his father's econowife. He bristled at her intrusion. She had been absent for so long, obviously well fed and looked after. How dare she come back now, when things were finally starting to feel settled.

"How would you know where I should be? What does it matter to you anyways?" He immediately wanted to take back his words, seeing the hurt cross her face. He knew little of the inner working of the Compound, after all. Knowing his mother, and the strength of her love for her children, she certainly had not been allowed to come and check in on her sons. As he had begun to apologize his mother had cut him off.

"I'm sorry I could not come to see you sooner, but we have precious few moments before I must be back. I know you think that going to school is not important to you now, but you must go. I have heard whispers that you are on track for the Academy, but your recent actions are putting that in danger. Please, work hard at your schooling and it will be worth it." She had said the final words as she passed by him, out the door and onto the path back to the main house.

As she was about to disappear from sight she had held up her hand in the silent three finger salute of District 12.

Gale had been left to mull his mother's strange, brief emergence into his life as he had gone about his day. He had not known how she knew how often he missed class, nor what his future might hold. Even stranger had been the old salute, usually used in mourning.

However, he had taken his mother's words to heart, eventually realizing the possible peril she had placed herself in in coming to him, treasured Handmaid or not. He had dutifully attended class at the bleak school day in and day out, working on his homework diligently. He had begun rising before dawn, making sure to get enough food to sustain himself and his brothers. It had been a brutal existence, but he had grit his teeth and made do.

His soul crushing work had become fruitful at age 16, when assignments were made for men. Though their service and contribution to Panem did not begin until age 18, their paths were decided at 16. He had been given an assignment to the Academy, to train as a Commander.

Yesterday he had graduated the Academy, a Junior Commander for the Sons of Snow, the leaders of the great nation of Panem. Commander Brot Mellark himself had pinned his silver mockingjay pin on, its great wings spread in flight.

Following the Pinning he had returned to the small shack for the last time. He had found his mother there with his brothers. The Pinning was Commanders only, but the entire Republic would attend the Covenant. However, he had known that would certainly be their last conversation.

She had hugged him, for the first time since he had been a boy. "You are getting there," she assured him, he hadn't paused to think what this could mean. She had drawn back from him then, and had studied him. "Do not go out tomorrow morning. A Commander cannot smell of fish, even a junior one. Make sure to brush your uniform and polish your boots. Your tie must be perfectly tied, and your hair should be slicked back. May tomorrow be a fine May Day."

She had left shortly after, her visits always brief and purposeful.

Now it was the day of the Covenant. Today he would be given his assignment as Junior Commander. He would also be given a wife.

The Academy had trained him well in all aspects of being a Commander in Panem. He knew well the structure and functions of the Republic, its central government and the working of the individual districts. He knew what the duties of a Commander looked like.

Gale had also been taught how to be the Head of the Household. Starting today Gale would be situated at the top of a well-established structure, with everyone, from wife to Marthas to Guardians sitting beneath him. He would be given his own Compound in his assigned district.

He could already describe what his wife would be like. Pure girls were graded in preparation for their Covenant ceremony during their sixteenth year. There were three categories: fertility, deportment, and beauty. If their total score was too low they were not permitted to become wives. His wife would be high in all categories. She would be expected to be an ornament of his status as Commander, elevating his position.

She would be sweet but mind numbingly boring, like every girl he had had to escort as a Cadet at the Academy. Deportment meant not just grace in social situations, but also loyalty to the Republic. A loyal woman was a dull one.

Yet despite his already present distaste for his wife, and his utter disgust at the Sons of Snow and all of Panem, he took his time to get ready. Though he loathed the Republic he knew his brothers and even his mother were in danger if he did not carefully march in his lane. Besides, Commanders had far more freedom than any other citizen or woman.

He bathed in the cold water of the outdoor shower at the back of the shack. He carefully brushed his suit and polished his boots. He slicked back his hair and tied his tie perfectly. He straightened and polished his Mockingjay pin. Finally, he placed around his neck a garland of woven rope and sea grass, with a few scattered shells.

Rory returned just as he finished, cheeks flushed with the cool ocean breeze and based on his wide grin, triumph. However, he seemed alarmed to see his brother in full regalia.

"Blessed be the fruit," he greeted. Gale, remembering their earlier conflict did not want it to end this way.

"There are no Eyes here," he promised Rory, glancing to Vick too who had finally crawled out of bed. Neither of his brothers seemed convinced however, the black uniform and glittering pin too much to overcome.

They therefore passed their morning meal in relative silence. Rory had evidently traded this morning, as he presented a small loaf of bread. However, it was not the salty, fish-shaped loaf of District 4. It was a coarse, dark roll of 12.

Gale did not remark on his brother's uncharacteristic sentimentality, suddenly realizing the finality of this meal, especially in his Commanders uniform. He barely touched his meal, though he did not suffer from a lack of appetite due to nerves. He simply knew tonight he was guaranteed a large meal. His brothers were not.

At the end of the meal they rose for a final time. They had never gotten another stool, so his brothers stood from the floor. His brothers moved to dress for the Covenant, while Gale gave one final look at what had been his home for the last three years. He listened to the sounds of the ocean, and breathed in the salty air.

At last Rory and Vick were ready, dressed in too-large suits that were faded and poorly patched. Both had once been Gales. The walked up the path to the gate of the Compound, where they met the Household, including their mother the Handmaid.

Gale joined the group for the short walk to the ceremony grounds, but the Commander beckoned him forward, to the car.

Gale immediately felt his fist clench. He knew Commanders did not walk, but still hated the interference of the big blond Commander Brot. However he said nothing, joining the Commander, his wife, and their youngest son as they got in the car.

Brot's blue-clad wife did not as much as glance at Gale, her pinched face set in its usual sneer as she stepped into the heavy black vehicle. Gale felt the usual twinge for his small sister, believing this woman her only mother. He had only seen the small girl twice, when he had passed by the small walled garden that was the extent of the outside world she was allowed to experience. She had been swathed in gauzy pink, a miniature of her real mother with her dark hair and grey eyes. Posy, he had heard her nursemaid call her. His mother had never spoken of her on her rare visits. She was still too young to attend any official Republic functions or ceremonies.

Soon the vehicle delivered them to the ceremony grounds, and Gale was released from the stony silence. The Commander and his wife went to the crowd, where they had seats. Most ceremonies required separation by gender, however the Covenant was about the family unit, thus they remained intact.

The Commander's son went towards where the Angels were assigned, pulling on his orange uniform as he went. He most likely would not be getting a wife today, but it was possible. Gale knew little about the boy, and what his tract was.

He joined the other newly minted Junior Commanders on the stage, exchanging soft greetings of "Blessed be the fruit" and "May the Lord open." They stood in line, a strong new face of the Sons of Son.

After nearly an hour of waiting, the crowd quietly filing into the large arena, subdued as ever, the Covenant began. The beginning was a broadcast from the Capital to all the districts, where the same ceremony was occurring. Ceremony Commander Caesar Flickerman reminded them of the ideals of the Republic and the Sons of Snow. He then spoke of the importance of Covenant, and the importance of marriage and joining. Finally, Head Commander Snow came on, and spoke icily of contributing, and its importance in letting the Republic continue to prosper.

At long last the seal of Panem flashed on the screen, the mockingjay with its spreading wings. The ceremonies began. The Guardians ceremony was first. Though they could not have wives, they took vows to the Republic, to serve and defend. They then filed out to receive assignments.

Next went the Angels. The majority took similar vows to the Guardians, as newly assigned Angels rarely received wives. The next group held the few lucky Angels assigned a wife from the beginning. Also joining them on stage were longer serving Angels, their service finally being awarded.

Gale watched with mild interest as the wives filed out from the small tent they had been seated in. While the grooms varied in age, all the new wives were 16. They white-veiled girls were brought in on the arms of Commanders, generally their fathers. They were deposited in front of their new husbands. Gale was surprised to see Commander Brot's son had been assigned a wife. From his vantage point he would be able to see her face.

After the vows were exchanged Angel Mellark lifted the veil of his young bride. Katniss. Gale almost flinched. Occasionally, when the waves kept him up at night, he had dared hope she would be his. He looked away in disgust.

He could feel his features taking on a glowering stare, but concentrated on schooling them back into indifference. A Commander showed no emotion.

Finally, after many minutes of concentration the time came for the Commander Covenant. More white veiled daughters were brought out for presentation. The girls were adorned with jewels, to match the garlands of their grooms. There were only a few new Commanders today, and even fewer more senior Commanders being presented with new wives. This meant Gale could not afford to look anything but stoic. There was not crowd of faces to melt into.

His bride was presented before him. He took the vows to lead and protect, and to serve the Republic faithfully. The brides in turn answered in their soft voices that they would humbly serve and be faithful, and bring fruit to the joining.

At the end of the vows he lifted his wife's veil. Staring back at him, face carefully arranged in sweet indifference was Madge Undersee.

 _Hello! After eight years away from fanfiction I yearn to get my creative juices flowing. I believe parts of The Handmaid's Tale and The Hunger Games work very well together, so here is my merging of the worlds. The Handmaid's Tale contributes society structure and other similar elements (although I do not copy this world exactly, only borrow certain aspects), no Handmaid's Tale characters will be appearing. The Hunger Games contributes all familiar characters and certain other elements. Any deviations from rule or customs from either universe is intentional and necessary to meld the worlds together (or a mistake, but let's stick with intentional)._


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